Out of Control (Damien x Reader)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚎𝚗 - 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

I woke, gasping for air as I pulled on the grey sheets. Damien rushed in, collapsing at my side. He quickly brushed the tangled hair from my face, along with the sweat and tears.

"You're okay now. Relax, I promise, you're safe." He whispered. I tried to suck in the air as I clutched onto his hand tightly.

"Just breath, (Y/N). I promise, you're okay." I swallowed sharply and fell back into the bed, pulling the pillow under my head. "I'll lay with you this time. Is that okay?" He slowly laid down at my side, running a hand through my hair as my eyes began to close again. I listened to his quiet breathing, then he began to hum softly, something familiar.

When I opened my eyes, it was a new day. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and rolled over. No Damien. I felt some relief, it would've been awkward to see him here. I sighed and stood from the bed, then grabbing my jacket from my bag. It was a little chilly this morning. I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. I could hear pots and pans clattering together in the kitchen. I peered inside, catching a glance at Damien in front of the stove. He caught my eyes, "Ah! Good morning!" He smiled from the stove, "I'm making breakfast, so I hope you're hungry."

"Where's the chef?" I questioned softly as I sat at the counter.

"All staff get two days off, and holidays."

"Oh. That's nice." I awkwardly looked around the kitchen, swaying my feet. I cleared my throat, "What are you making?"

"Pancakes."

"Ah."

He flipped the pancake and used tongs to grab the bacon from the hot pan.

"Coffee?" He asked politely.

"No thank you." I smiled softly, "Do you have any juice, though?" He smirked and pulled my favorite juice from the fridge and poured it into a tall glass. How did he know it was my favorite? I pushed away the question and took small sips of it as I watched him. Damien carefully poured syrup over my pancakes, then placing the large plate in front of me.

"How did you sleep?" He softly asked.

"Better." I smiled, "You?"

"I slept good."

Silence fell. He stared at the counter intensely. Something was bouncing around in his head, gripping onto the walls of his brain. I cleared my plate and placed it into the dishwasher.

"Everything okay?" I almost whispered.

"Me?" He replied, "I'm alright. Just thinking."

I nodded slowly, then tapping my nails against the marble counter. It was so quiet. Damien smiled and cleared his plate, then loading it away. "I have a meeting at noon, so I'll be in my office for a couple of hours. There's a card in my bedroom that you can use incase you need to go anywhere. And you don't need to ask for anything."

"Is there a limit?"

"Limit? No, why would there be a limit?" He chuckled. I laughed slightly and gently rubbed my arm.

"I need to start getting ready. If you need me, please text me. Or you can just pop inside the office, that's okay too." I nodded and excused myself to my temporary bedroom. Sitting on my bed, I pulled on my fingers and thumbs. What to do? I pulled out my phone and opened my messages. I shot Chase a text. Maybe he wants to go out for lunch or something. Maybe He'll just come over and hang out.

'Can't, I have Olivia today' he replied.

Olivia? Whose that? I shook the thought from my mind. Maybe a girlfriend, or his wife. I sighed. Now what? I stood, cleaning up the bed before leaving the room, shutting the door behind me. I heard Damien speaking from inside the office. He sounded pretty calm in the moment. Hopefully it stayed that way. I never really imaged Damien as an aggressive person, not unless he really needed to be. I peered into the closest, open door. A small library, lit with a fireplace and lined with books laid inside. I smiled gently as I ran my fingertips across the leather covers. I sat at the table that was placed in the corner of the room, a pile of folders and papers sat on top of it. I brushed away the dust that sat on the surface of the pages, Damien probably hasn't been in here for a long time. I opened the folder, and examined the first page. A death certificate. The name 'Celine' had danced across the page, the rest of the information scribbled over. My stomach dropped. Who was Celine? How did she die? I couldn't read pass the scribbles, and decided to push the page aside. The rest of the papers were letters, personally addressed to Damien, from a man named William. I closed the file, turning away from it. My ears began to ring from the silence. The fire crackled, and made the room feel cozy all over again. I yawned and stretched my limbs, a voice then calling to me. I spun towards the open door, Chase standing there with a happy meal in his hand. A small child, a girl, stood behind him, pinching his shirt between her tiny fingers. I smiled and waved to the girl, who shyly hid once again.